


Love thy Neighbour

by orphan_account



Series: Stucky AUs [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Slow Build, i don't know what to tag this with so that is all for now, i guess but like it's a meet cute so of course it ends when they get together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 07:24:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5776777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has not got his life together, but that does not mean his family needs to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love thy Neighbour

Bucky moves into his new apartment on a Monday.

Clint helps him move in, but that doesn't entail much since all Bucky's got is a duffel of clothes and a double mattress, but he's glad he doesn't have to do this alone.

It's a nice enough place, nicer than he thought he'd be able to afford. It's got one bedroom, one bathroom, a decent sized living room, and a small kitchen. All in all, it's perfect for him. The last tenant left behind an old couch. It's splitting at the seams and has an old coffee stain on it, but it's comfortable and not that bad.

"Nat bought you a microwave." Clint says as they drag Bucky's mattress up the two flights of stairs. There is an elevator but Bucky's not sure he should be in a small confined space just yet, plus the mattress is too big.

Bucky just grunts. He hates the way he has to squeeze the mattress between his arm and body to stop it from slipping but there's not much he can do about it. It's not like he can just grow his arm back to pick it up properly.

They get the mattress inside the shoebox apartment and into the bedroom. It's pushed up against the window in the far corner and Bucky flops down onto it. Clint settles down next to him and rests his elbows on his knees.

"She probably won't be able to drop it off tonight, but she'll come over tomorrow." Clint picks up his train of thought as if he never dropped off it. Bucky hums in assent, even just to let Clint know he heard him.

"Just warning you, it will probably be about 9. So you'd better be awake and dressed if you don't want her to rip into you." They sit like that for a while. They can hear the sound of mid-morning Brooklyn traffic drifting through the cracked-open window and Bucky focuses on it. It's nice to be back.

 

* * *

 

  
Bucky's alarm goes off at 8:30 and he drags himself out of bed and into the shower. It's hotter than he expected, and the water pressure is perfect. He smiles to himself and scrubs his hand through his hair. He's got a small bar of soap, but he still needs to get shampoo.

Nat arrives at seven minutes to nine, a box in her arms and shopping bags piled on top of it.

"James," she greets. Her hair's tied up and she's in her exercise gear. Bucky waves her in and kicks the door shut behind her. She makes her way through to the kitchen and unpacks the groceries. She got him fruit and vegetables, and ready-to-go meals, and muesli bars and crackers, and cheese and milk and bread and _coffee_.

"Natalia." Bucky says, and that's all he can say. If, ten years ago, someone had told him he'd get all choked up on his friend buying him groceries he would've rolled his eyes. But it's not ten years ago, he's not a kid and Bucky's pretending his heart isn't in his throat. Nat seems to know, just as she always does, and gives him a small smile. He helps her put away the food (the apartment came with a fridge!) and plug in the microwave. There's still one bag left and Bucky looks in it. Shampoo, toilet paper, toothpaste (which Bucky already had, but he's not complaining), and dishwashing liquid.

"It's nice here." Nat says. She looks around the almost-empty room. "A bit bare, but you've got a good excuse." She sits down on the couch, testing its bounce before deeming it worthy and standing back up. Bucky reaches out for her and she pulls him into a hug.

"James, you're always welcome at our place, okay? Just because you've moved out doesn't mean you have to stay away. Come over for meals, to see Lucky, for anything. You got that?" She says in his ear. Bucky nods and gives her a squeeze before holding her at arm's length.

"I promise," He rasps.

"Good. You gonna be okay here? I have to go to open the studio." She's hesitant, he knows that. He half wants to be selfish, tell her he's not quite okay, but he knows he shouldn't. He is okay, he is fine. He's only a twenty-five minute walk from the VA, he has Sam's number, and Clint's number, and he starts work tomorrow so he's not even going to be alone for long, anyway.

"Of course I'm fine," Bucky says with a smile. As if to prove he's not alone, his phone starts to ring. Caller ID reads _Becca_. Figures.

"Get outta here, Natalia. I'll call you tomorrow." Bucky nudges her shoulder and watches as her red hair disappears down the stairs before answering his phone.

"Bucky!" He can hear her smile, even through the phone, and can't help his own little smile at the sound of her voice.

"Hey, Becks. What's up?" Becca doesn't call without an agenda- that's what texting's for. Calls mean business.

"How's the new place?" She asks, and oh. Bucky knows what's coming, and he knows his sister. He also knows how he cannot deny her anything. If she wants to come see it, she's gonna. And if she sees how it is- bare and admittedly depressing- she's not going to be happy.

"It's great!" Bucky forces as much cheer into his voice as he can without going overboard. He's got to sell this. "Wanna come over Saturday for coffee?"

Because if she's going to come over within the next week (it's Becca, of course she will), it's going to be on his terms.

Becca makes a disappointed clucking sound. "I'm going away on Thursday for two weeks. Can you do tomorrow, lunch time?"

Bucky starts work tomorrow. Bucky starts work tomorrow which means he can't do lunch with his sister at his new apartment which means she's going to figure out how to come over tonight and Bucky is not prepared. Shit. He needs a plan.

"I start work tomorrow." He says, mind already racing to see what he can do. He can't take Clint and Nat's furniture, Becca would recognise it. He could start looking for some from second hand stores, but that's still weak.

"I'll bring take out over tonight." Becca says through the phone, oblivious to her brother's mild panic. "7ish sound good? Text me the address." And suddenly she's gone, leaving Bucky alone in his empty apartment with nothing but his anxiety.

 

* * *

 

Apart from an adorable cat mug, Bucky's had no luck at the stores. He couldn't even find a decent-yet-affordable coffee table. He's only got two and a half hours until Becca turns up and he's stressing. At least he's now got plates, cups and cutlery.

It's still not good enough.

There's someone in the hallway when Bucky gets to the second floor. He's tall and blond and doing something on his phone while standing at the door to the other unit on the floor. He looks up when Bucky gets to the top of the stairs.

"Hiya, I'm Steve," Bucky's neighbour says, grinning at Bucky.

"Bucky." He replies. He's shaking Steve's outstretched hand (right, thank God) when he gets the best idea he's ever had. Ever.

"Steve," Bucky says, standing up straight and forcing himself to meet Steve's eyes. Steve smiles and nods.

"Yeah?"

"I have a really weird favour to ask you, but I'm getting desperate." Bucky clenches his fist and stretches his fingers out again, keeping his eyes locked on Steve's.

"There's- how weird?" Steve looks worried, a slight frown forming on his brow. "Jesus, there's no body, is there?"

"Body?" Bucky asks. Then it clicks. "No! No body! Nothing like that, holy shit. No, my sister's invited herself over but I don't have furniture, and I was wondering if-" Bucky hesitates, focusing on his hand movements to steady himself. _There's nothing wrong with asking for help_ , a voice that sounds suspiciously like Sam's runs through his mind. He doesn't think this is what Sam meant, but oh well. "I was wondering if I could borrow some of your furniture for an hour or two maybe? Just so she wouldn't get unnecessarily worried?"

Steve visibly relaxes and he laughs. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, we can sort something out."

 

* * *

 

They're in Bucky's apartment, straightening out Steve's coffee table when Bucky's phone chimes.

 _**Becca 6:57pm** _  
_Just got food, 5 mins away x_

Bucky stands up and assesses the room. Three framed pieces of artwork hang from the walls, two of Steve's armchairs facing Steve's tv with Bucky's couch between them. There's Steve's rug down the hallway and Steve's small table set up in the corner with two chairs. It looks- really nice, actually. Bucky grins at Steve.

"You've saved my life. Becca's relentless." Steve flashes a grin at Bucky and heads for the door. "I promise I will give everything back, in the exact same condition it is in now once she's gone."

"You'd better," Steve laughs. They've reached the stairwell and Steve heads to his door. "I know where you live."

  
Bucky's hardly shut the door when Becca's tell-tale knock sounds through, two then three sharp raps. He opens the door for her and she greets him with a hug.

"This is real nice, Buck." Becca says, walking into the living room. "I'm impressed. When you said you didn't need my help, or Ma's and Pa's, I thought maybe you were just trying to brush us off. But you're doing good. I'm proud."

Bucky absolutely refuses to feel guilty about lying to her face as he pulls out his new plates. He loves his family, he really does, but if he'd asked them for any sort of help he knows they would've gone overboard. Okay, Becca not as much, but his parents would've insisted he move back with them. He knows they missed him and feared for him when he was overseas, and his Ma didn't want him living anywhere other than under her roof when he returned. But Bucky's a grown adult, he's 27 and does not want to be living with his parents.

"I'm a responsible adult, and I don't need you to give me a hand." He says instead, setting the plates down on the table. Becca doesn't notice.

"Even if you did, I'm always happy to help. You know that. I'm your sister, I love you."

"Hand, Becks. Give me a hand. Because the other one was blown off. It's funny." Bucky says with a grin, nudging her. Becca's head snaps up, her eyes wide.

"Stop it. It's not funny, it's uncomfortable."

Bucky huffs a sigh and rolls his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Becca leaves a little before ten and Bucky's exhausted. But he has all of Steve's furniture. Since he's a trustworthy responsible adult, Bucky goes straight over to Steve's.

"Becca's gone." He says in greeting once Steve answers the door. He's in a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants, his hair all ruffled and thick glasses on. Bucky just manages to refrain from calling him a hipster. "Do you want your stuff back?"

Steve looks at Bucky for a moment, then at his watch. "Nah," he says. "Can we sort it out tomorrow evening? I have to be up before six and can't be bothered. Is that okay with you?"

Bucky nods eagerly, more than happy to not lift and move heavy furniture. "Yeah, of course! I'll see you tomorrow then. Sleep well. Thanks, Steve."

"See ya. G'night, Bucky."

 

* * *

 

Bucky's still buzzing from his first day at work. He's under qualified, he knows that, but he also knows he's capable. If it weren't for Natasha and her questionable connections, there'd be no way he'd have landed an engineering job at Stark Industries. Lucky for him, though, he's got the best best-friend in the whole damn world and his dream job.

"Someone's in a good mood."

Bucky looks up to see Steve grinning at him. He's waiting by the elevator but moves to take the stairs with Bucky.

"New job. I like it." Bucky shrugs, not even bothering to wipe the smile off his face. He knocks his shoulder against Steve's. "What're you waiting by the lift for? We're only two floors up."

"Uh, stairs aren't too good for my asthma. I should still be walking but I didn't realise I'd be caught out." Steve shrugs and they walk up the stairs together.

"Come grab your stuff now, or I won't ever give it back." Bucky says when they reach their landing. Steve nods and follows him inside.

"Did it go okay? With your sister and all." He asks as they carry an armchair back to his apartment.

"Yeah, thank you so much. She totally bought it and will hopefully get off my back."

Steve smiles like it's the best news he's had all week.

 

* * *

 

Bucky's laying Steve's rug out on the floor when he hears his neighbour clear his throat. That's the last of it, all of Steve's furniture now returned to his place.

"Wanna stay for dinner? I was thinking Spag Bol? You're new to the building, it's the least I can do."

"Buddy, if anyone owes anyone dinner, it's me owing you." Bucky says, standing up and pushing his hair off his face. It's at an annoying length, long enough to be shaggy and get in his eyes, but not long enough to tie up. He doesn't like it, but he doesn't want to cut it either.

Steve shrugs and avoids Bucky's eyes. "Maybe next time?"

"Yeah," Bucky nods. "Okay. Spag Bol sounds perfect."

He follows Steve through to the kitchen and sits on a stool while Steve cooks. Bucky offers to help but Steve brushes him off.

"I'm not good at cooking with other people. I get bossy. How about you grab some beers from the fridge?" Steve suggests, waving his arm in the general direction of the fridge. Bucky grabs two and holds one out to Steve before settling back down to his stool.

Nat calls just as Bucky's about to set the table.

"So, James, how was it?" She asks. Bucky can hear a muffled crash from the background, and Clint's recognisable voice swearing.

"It was great. Is Clint alright?"

"He's fine," Nat dismisses. "I think he just stubbed his toe. He's had worse. So, tell me all about your day."

Bucky glances at Steve. The table's set and the meal's been served. Steve's busying himself with something in the kitchen but Bucky knows he's holding him up. "Can I call you back in an hour or so? My neighbour's made me dinner."

"Ooh, your neighbour? This sounds good."

"Bye, Natalia." Bucky says and hangs up, but he knows she won't mind. "Ready to eat?" He calls out to Steve, who appears instantly.

"Sure thing."

The meal is, to say the least, amazing. Bucky almost wants to cry.

"Goddamn, Steve, I'm gonna have to borrow your furniture more often if it'll get you to cook for me again." He says when he finishes his mouthful. As much as he wanted to sing his praises the second he tasted it, he wasn't raised in a barn. He can be patient.

Steve blushes at the compliment and tucks his chin into his neck. "Yeah, well, it's because you moved in across the hall, not because the furniture. You still owe for that."

They finish dinner with comfortable conversation and Bucky finds himself not wanting to go. He frowns at the thought and shakes is head. He's a working man now, he has stuff he needs to do and that includes sleeping at regular hours.

"Thanks, Steve, I really appreciate it." Bucky gives Steve a small smile as he heads back to his own place.

"Anytime, Buck. See you around."

 

* * *

 

Bucky doesn't actually see Steve for at least two weeks. It must be their schedules, or maybe work's the only thing stopping Bucky from becoming a recluse. (It's probably the latter.) But seeing Steve isn't the only thing he hasn't done in the last two weeks, he realises when his sister calls him. She's just returned to New York and has invited herself over for dinner, and Bucky realises he still doesn't have furniture.

Bucky's aware he's only seen Steve when he's come to get furniture or food and it doesn't sit comfortably with him, but once again he doesn't have much of an option.

"I like you, Steve." Bucky says when Steve opens his door. Steve's eyes widen but Bucky keeps talking. "I think you're a wonderful person and I want to be your friend. I promise it's not just your furniture."

Steve seems to catch on and he huffs out a small laugh. "Let me guess; your sister's coming over again?"

"And she's bringing our parents!" Bucky hisses. He knows he probably looks like a mess- it's 2pm on a Saturday and he's in a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair's all messy from running his hand through it. The only reason he hasn't completely lost it is because his Ma's bringing the food.

"C'mon, let's grab what you need." Steve sighs, waving Bucky in.

"I still owe you for last time, I know. Come over tomorrow morning, I'll make breakfast." Bucky offers as they pick up the first armchair. "10am."

 

* * *

 

Bucky's just finished making a batch of the best pancakes he has ever made in his entire life when Steve knocks on his door.

"It's open!" He calls out, grabbing two plates and setting them on the counter. Steve looks like he's just rolled out of bed, and considering it's 10 on a Sunday morning, he probably has. He's wearing a white tank top and grey sweats, and those damn glasses. Bucky grins.

"Food's ready."

They're halfway through the massive stack of pancakes and the easiest conversation Bucky's ever had. So, naturally, there's a knock on his door.

"Bucky? Wake up, it's me." Becca's voice rings through the apartment and Bucky curses under his breath. At least Steve's furniture is still all in place. (Or out of place, maybe, because it's real place is at Steve's.)

Bucky swings open the door and forces a smile at his sister. "Why, Becks, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Becca takes the open door as an invitation and saunters in, slinging her handbag onto the coffee table and snuggling into Steve's impossibly soft armchair.

"Left my phone last night. Thought I'd swing by to pick it up." She still hasn't noticed Steve and Bucky's not too sure whether to count that as a blessing or acknowledge his presence to her. Unfortunately (or fortunately, Bucky's still undecided), Steve makes that decision for his and walks into view with Becca's phone.

"This it?" He asks, holding out her phone. Becca stares up at him, her eyes wider than Bucky's sexual preference and jaw lower than his standards. (That's a joke, actually. Bucky's standards aren't that low.)

"He's my-"

"Steve." Steve cuts in, still standing there with the phone in his hand and those ridiculous shoulders just... existing.

"He's my Steve." Bucky repeats dryly. Becca finally looks away from Steve and gives Bucky a strange look he doesn't think he wants to understand.

"Okay. Please take your phone and leave. We're having breakfast and I'm not awake enough to talk to you." Bucky grumbles, taking her phone from Steve and shoving it at her. She gets up with an overly dramatic sigh and lets him push her to the door.

"Have a _wonderful_ day." She smirks. "And goodbye, Steve!"

She's gone and Bucky bangs his head against the door behind him.

"So that's your sister?" Steve asks with a shit-eating grin.

"Pal, that ain't even the half of it."

 

* * *

 

Bucky's at Steve's.

That's how it always is, now. Whether they pass each other in the stairwell with takeout or knock on each other's doors for company, Bucky and Steve somehow manage to spend the majority of their nights together.

They're on Steve's armchairs, an empty pizza box strewn on the coffee table between them and the Friday Night Romantic Comedy playing on TV.

"Pissing in the sink. That's just as bad as it gets. I'd be outta there in a heartbeat." Steve says, pointing at Ashton Kutcher as he does just that.

"One and a half million bucks, Steve. I think it's worth it." Bucky counters.

"Aww, you're the only Buck I need." Steve bats his eyelashes playfully and Bucky throws a cushion at him. It lands at Steve's feet and he puts his feet on it. There's a lull in the conversation and the TV's pretty low anyway so they can hear the noise of the cars below, and a familiar voice sobbing in the hallway.

"Bucky? Please open up." If there's one sound Bucky can't stand at all, it's the sound of his sister crying. He doesn't even think, he's just suddenly at the door.

"Becca? What's wrong?" Becca whips around from Bucky's door, eyes wide in confusion and tear streaks down her face. She runs to his chest.

"Jason broke up with me." Becca and Jason had dated since high school, four and a half years longer than Bucky's longest relationship. He winces and holds his sister tighter.

"Hey, it's okay. Come watch What Happens in Vegas and cry with us." Bucky offers, pulling Becca inside. It's not until she looks up and scans the room that Bucky realises the mistake he's made. Because it's almost been five months and Bucky still borrows Steve's furniture when Becca comes over, and now she's in Steve's apartment, looking at his furniture she recognises as Bucky's, and he hasn't got a decent explanation. So what does Bucky do when he's under pressure? He lies.

"This is your furniture..." Becca says slowly, turning to Bucky. His back isn't against the wall but he feels very cornered right now.

"Steve and I are dating, Becca. I just moved in about a week ago." Steve's head snaps up at the lie, but he's behind Becca so she doesn't see.

"I _knew_ the two of you were dating!" She laughs, and it comes out all bubbly through her tears. Steve frowns slightly and Bucky really hopes he doesn't ruin this for him. He's in over his head, but he's also too stubborn and too much of a fool to stop digging.

"I'll make cocoa." Steve offers and he moves to the kitchen before Bucky can protest to being left alone with Becca.

"C'mon," he says. "We're watching bad movies." Becca takes Bucky's chair and he's suddenly aware that he's expected to act like he's in a relationship with Steve. He can't do this, Bucky sucks at relationships. Plus, it's _Steve_. Becca seems to notice him hesitate and tilts her head in question. Bucky flashes her a smile and settles onto the pillow he threw at Steve, where it's resting at the foot of his chair.

"How long?" Becca asks, and it takes Bucky a moment to realise she's probably asking about Steve.

"Since we met, about five months. I know it's fast, but it just feels right, you know?" He has to sell this, find the perfect balance of happily-in-love between he's-the-best-thing-to-happen-to-me and i-guess-he's-hot. She seems to buy it, though, nodding in agreement.

"For what it's worth, I like him." She offers.

"Thanks, Becks. But let's not talk about my relationship, not tonight." Steve comes in then, three steaming mugs dwarfed in his hands, and gives one to Becca before setting the other two in front of Bucky on the coffee table. He doesn't react to Bucky sitting at his feet, just curls up in his armchair the same as before.

  
"So why'd you choose this place over your old place?" Becca asks, filling the silence of the commercials when they come back on. Steve's running his fingers through Bucky's hair and Bucky's so content he almost misses the question.

"It's bigger. Spare bedroom." Steve supplies before it gets too clear Bucky's mind is elsewhere.

"Steve needs an art studio. Can't do that at my place." Bucky mumbles absently.

"You're an artist?" Becca asks, perking up a bit.

"I'm not that-"

"He's so good Becks. Amazing. The best." Bucky cuts Steve off before he can do that Modesty thing. Gross.

"Aw, thanks babe." Steve says, and wow it's so weird hearing him say Babe Bucky can't help but laugh. He knows he brought this on himself, and it's all for Becca's benefit, but still. _Babe_.

"Stop calling me babe." He says, as if this is a conversation they have often. "Babe's a pig in the city."

"Exactly." Steve grins, and Bucky reaches back to swat his arm.

 

* * *

 

"It's late." Becca says. She's right, it's almost midnight. "Can I crash here?"

She's tentative, it must be Steve because usually, she'd just announce she's staying. Bucky glances at Steve but he already knows the answer.

"Of course you can." Steve says, not even looking at Bucky. "There's a bed in the guest room-"

"-Studio-"

"-That's all made up and ready to go." Steve leads Becca to the studio- guest room- whatever- and Bucky clears up the mugs and pizza box. He buys himself as much time as possible before heading to Steve's room. This is a thing he has to do now, all because he's a goddamn ass who couldn't be bothered buying a fucking chair and table.

"Hey." Steve says as Bucky enters his room. He's sitting on the edge of his bed, looking a bit uncomfortable.

"I'm so sorry." Bucky blurts, flopping down next to Steve. "I didn't think, I'm an idiot, I'm sorry I dragged you into this. Thank you so so much for not selling me out."

Steve's quiet for a while, longer than Bucky wants him to be. He leans back, laying down next to Bucky and staring at the ceiling.

"It's okay. I'm not going to give you away. But you need to come clean. It is getting a little bit ridiculous."

"I know, I'm sorry. I will, just-" Bucky takes a deep breath. He doesn't know how to tell his family. It's not just like he hasn't gotten around to buying furniture, he's been lying to them about it for months now, and on top of that he's said he's moved in with his non-existent boyfriend.

"You're not quite ready?" Steve guesses, and-

"Yeah. Not quite."

 

* * *

 

He's hot. He's too hot. It's the sun and the sand. Dernier's telling Gabe a joke but Bucky's not really listening. It's too hot for him to be bothered dissecting their French with the sun beating down on him and the last of his water in his canteen stashed away in case he needs it even more later.

There's a deafening boom, a bright light, and Bucky vaguely thinks _that's an IED_ before he's thrown backwards and pinned to the ground.

He's hot. He's too hot and there's something burning him, searing into his left side. Bucky screams and he kicks and he cries because he knows he's not going to make it. Everything around him is glowing an unnatural white. It's absurd, really, but he thinks of the water in his canteen. He won't need it later, he could've had it all before.

"Bucky." A voice calls, but it's distant. The weight on him shifts, the heat burning into him as he frantically pushes at it.

All at once, his eyes snap open and the white disappears, replaced by pitch dark, which is maybe even worse. There's nothing on him, he's not burning up, he's not trapped, and there's a voice.

"Bucky. _Bucky_. You're okay, you're safe. You're in Brooklyn, I'm with you. It's Steve, Steve your neighbour? You're okay, you're gonna be okay." It _is_ Steve, and his voice is the sweetest sound Bucky thinks he's ever heard.

"Steve." He gasps, clutching at Steve's arm with his shaking hand. "Steve."

"Yeah, Buck. I'm here."

Bucky doesn't know what time it is, he's not even sure what day it is, but he know's he's okay, he know's he will be okay. He focuses on Steve's breathing, same as Sam taught him, and waits as the adrenaline seeps away. He sits, staring into the darkness and willing the phantom pains in his left arm away as the minutes tick by.

He's stopped shaking, and stopped sweating by the time he lays his head back down on the pillow. He knows he's not going back to sleep any time soon but it's okay.

"Sorry." He rasps, his voice hoarse form screaming.

"You're okay, Buck." Steve replies, his voice barely reaching a whisper.

 

* * *

 

If Bucky's nightmare woke Becca, she shows no sign of it. He trudges into the kitchen, leaving a sleeping Steve behind to soothe the guilt of waking him in the middle of the night. Luckily for Bucky's cover, he's been at Steve's early in the morning enough to know where the coffee is, and makes a start on it automatically.

Becca's a heavy sleeper, but she's not unobservant, so there's no way she can't tell Bucky's exhausted as fuck. But Becca's also the perfect human being, and she doesn't say a thing, instead just pulls out some mugs after a moment of rummaging through the cupboards.

"Where's your cat mug?" She asks, because she's Becca and she knows Bucky loves his cat mug.

"Oh, it's- it's in our room. Don't wanna wake Steve, just grab a different one." Bucky's mug isn't in Steve's room, it's in his apartment. His painfully empty apartment without artwork, and chairs, and the smell of fresh coffee, and Steve asleep in the bedroom. Bucky sighs into his cup.

"I'm actually going to Katie's for brunch. Kinda a my-best-friend's-been-dumped-by-her-boyfriend-of-five-years type thing. Say thanks to Steve from me. It was good to see him again."

Bucky forces a smile and shows her to the door. Before she slips away down the stairs she turns to Bucky and punches him (albeit lightly) on his right shoulder.

"Oh, and that's for not telling me about you and Steve dating, let alone _living together_." She hisses, and she's off.

Bucky doesn't really have a reason to hang around anymore now that Becca's left and Steve's still asleep. He grabs a pen and post-it note and scribbles down a message for Steve before heading back to his own lonely apartment.

 _Steve,_  
_Thank you and sorry. I owe you big time. Name your price, you got it. Thanks again, Bucky._

 

* * *

 

"Rebecca tells us you've already moved out of your apartment." Ma's tinny voice echoes through the phone. Bucky groans and buries his phone in his pillow.

"James, we didn't even know you were in a relationship! Are you ashamed of us?" Ma's voice actually sounds nervous, like she thinks her son is about to elope and leave the country so his lover will never have to meet his parents.

"No, Ma, that's not it. I just-" Bucky doesn't know. He has no idea what to say or what to do because he's made such a mess out of his web of lies he can't even begin to tidy it up. "I just didn't want to jinx it, you know? I've never felt this way about anyone before, I didn't want to speak too soon."

It does the trick, though. Ma sighs into the phone. "I understand, but you're living together now. Can we at least meet him?"

So that's how Bucky manages to dig his fucking grave even deeper.

 

* * *

 

"Steve, I will give you five hundred dollars if you come to my parents' for dinner on Saturday." Bucky says the next time he sees Steve. He doesn't actually have $500 to just give away, but he'll figure it out. As usual when it comes to needing Steve's help, Bucky's desperate.

"I don't want your money, Buck. I'll come." Steve sighs, sounding way older than his 29 years. Bucky doesn't even pretend he doesn't feel guilty as hell.

 

* * *

 

"You're gonna be fine, okay? They're gonna love you." Bucky says. They're sitting in Steve's car outside Bucky's parents' house. The car radio is playing softly in the background, just ads they're not listening to.

"That's not what I'm worried about, Buck. What if I blow this for you? Slip up on something?" Steve looks at Bucky with his big honest blue eyes and Bucky feels his chest tighten a notch.

"You won't. But if you do, it's hardly your fault. I've put you in a tricky position." Bucky sighs and rests his head back on the headrest of his seat. "I'm sorry, Steve."

The curtain in the living room shifts and Bucky can see his Ma's silhouette watching them. She drops the curtain as he moves his head, but he knows she's still there. Steve pulls the keys out and the radio cuts to silence.

"Ma's watching us. Kiss me, then let's head inside." Bucky murmurs. Steve looks at him with wide eyes for a moment before leaning down and pecking Bucky lightly on the mouth. He doesn't linger, but Bucky can taste his sweet breath on his own bitter lips.

"C'mon, boyfriend. Let's do this." Steve smiles weakly, hopping out of the car and walking around to open Bucky's door for him. Bucky grasps his hand when Steve offers it, clinging to the familiarity of his best friend. Because yeah, there's Nat (and Clint), but then there's Steve, and it's just so different from how he's been with anyone else but it's perfect and Bucky doesn't want to ruin it. If it comes down to his easy-going friendship with Steve and his excessive lies with his family, it's Steve no doubt. But it hasn't come down to that- not yet anyway. So Bucky's taking them both.

Steve knocks on the door so Bucky doesn't have to let go of his hand and they wait all of three seconds before Ma's there, beaming up at them.

"James! Oh, and you must be Steve! I've heard so much about you! Come on in." She ushers them inside, taking their coats only to hand them to Becca to put away. Becca rolls her eyes but hangs them up anyway.

"Not from me..." Bucky mumbles, but no ones hears him.

"Mrs Barnes, it's a pleasure to meet you." Steve says with a charming smile, dropping Bucky's hand to take Ma's in both of his. Bucky clenches his fist then splays out his fingers, trying not to miss the comforting warmth of Steve's palm in his own.

Ma says something about calling her Winnie, but Bucky's not listening. He catches Becca's eye and she nods towards the living room.

"Hey, Pa." Bucky calls out, leaving Steve and Ma behind to greet his father. Pa looks up from where he's setting the table and grins at Bucky.

"James. It's good to see you." He passes the knives and forks to Bucky to help finish the table. "I'm glad you finally brought your man around. Your Ma's been going crazy this past week."

Bucky rolls his eyes and puts down the last fork.

"Steve, come meet my Pa." Bucky calls. Steve appears comically fast, holding his right hand out to Bucky's Pa, the left one slipping around Bucky's waist and resting on his hip.

"Pa, this is Steve. Steve, this is my Pa, George." Bucky waves his hand between them as they shake hands and _exchange pleasantries_.

"You just left me there with her, alone." Steve hisses in Bucky's ear once Pa returns to the kitchen to serve dinner. Bucky takes a moment to just relax, leaning into Steve.

"I'm sorry, I can't handle her." He whispers back as Ma and Becca come into the room. Steve gives Bucky's hip a brief squeeze before sitting down a the table. Pa carves the roast chicken and they last most of dinner with light and friendly conversation. Steve helps clear the table and bring out Ma's chocolate cake and the whole scene is picture-perfect Bucky can't help but laugh.

"Look at you," Ma sighs, a fond smile on her face. "You're so happy now."

Instantly, Bucky's smiles is gone and he finds himself frowning slightly. "Ma, please don't."

"I'm just saying!" She protests.

"Please, drop it." Bucky begs. Steve's hand finds his knee but it does little to comfort him.

"You never used to smile like that. Well- you did, but not since- um."

"Since what, Ma?" Bucky snaps. "Since I joined the army and watched all my friends die while I couldn't do a damn thing about it? Since I lost my arm to an explosion that almost killed me?" Bucky hates this, he hates arguing and making such a big deal out of everything, but he asked her. He asked her to stop and she didn't and he just needs some air. He gets up from the table and makes his way to the bathroom.

His reflection is blurry and for a moment Bucky just thinks the glass needs to be cleaned, but then his cheeks are warm and he realises he's crying.

"Buck? Hey, can I come in?" Steve's at the door which is just _great_. First Bucky stole his furniture, then he pulled him into this relationship mess, and now Bucky's left him to fend for himself while he cries in the bathroom like some child.

"Yeah." Bucky croaks, refusing to admit how defeated his voice sounds. Steve cracks the door open slowly before coming it in. He shuts it behind him and sits down next to where Bucky's slid down the wall.

Steve doesn't say anything, just rubs slow circles on Bucky's back.

"Okay," Bucky says once he's calmed down. He's not sure how much time has passed but he can't bring himself to care, either. Steve helps him to his feet.

"I'm sorry." Bucky apologises.

"Don't. Not for this, never for this." Steve replies, his eyes all warm and comforting, and _home_. Bucky nods once, gripping Steve's hand tight.

They come back through the living room. The table's cleared and Bucky's family is sitting on the couches with hot drinks. They look up when Bucky and Steve come in and Ma jumps to her feet.

Her eyes are red and slightly puffy, and oh great, she's been crying. Just another thing Bucky's done wrong.

"Stop that." Steve's voice is quiet in his ear. "I know what you're thinking. Stop blaming yourself for this." Bucky just squeezes his hand in response.

"Bucky, I'm sorry." Ma exclaims, throwing her arms around him. He lets go of Steve to hold his mother.

"It's okay, Ma. I just overreacted." Bucky starts, but Ma cuts him off.

"No, you didn't. I was out of line." She sighs and pulls away from him. "Do you want a drink?"

 _Whiskey_ , Bucky thinks. But he knows what she means and asks for a coffee. Steve follows her into the kitchen to help like the perfect Boy Scout he is.

"I think his shoulders are bigger than my head." Pa says after a moment, effectively breaking the silence. Becca barks out a surprised laugh and Bucky feels himself blush.

"Yeah, um. He works out." Bucky mumbles, but he's secretly relieved as the tension dissipates. Pa gives him a brief nod. Not so secretly, Bucky supposes.

"I'd say," Pa grins into his tea. "But seriously, James. He's a keeper. I can't wait for the wedding!"

"Pa," Bucky groans, slouching more into the cushioning of the couch he's on.

It's not long 'til Steve's back, handing Bucky his coffee and sliding onto the couch next to him.

"Thanks," Bucky says, smiling at him. He takes a sip of is coffee- still too hot, but perfect nonetheless. His hair falls into his face and he shakes his head, trying to get it back into place.

"I got it." Steve says quietly so only Bucky can hear. He's taken to carrying a hair-tie on his wrist for moments like this. His fingers sweep though Bucky's hair, gently pulling it off his face and into a ponytail.

"Here's your cake." Ma says, appearing in front of them with two plates of cake.

"No thanks." Bucky declines as Steve accepts one of the plates. He's tired and doesn't really want to spend much longer here. Steve seems to catch on and finishes his cake a lot faster than he otherwise would have.

"It was lovely meeting you." Steve says when Ma and Pa show them to the door. "Thank you so much for dinner."

"Oh, please come over more! It was so good to meet you Steve." Ma gushes, pulling them each into a hug and kissing their cheeks. Pa hugs Bucky and shakes Steve's hand and Becca just watches them leave with a fond smile.

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky's still awake at 2:43am. He doesn't want to be, but he's all riled up form the dinner and he doesn't really want to be alone right now. He gets out of bed and stumbles through his empty apartment. Steve keeps a key under Bucky's mat, and Bucky lets himself into Steve's apartment. There's a spare bed he knows he can use but he doesn't know if he'll wake up before Steve, and he doesn't want to be sleeping in Steve's spare room without him knowing. So he settles himself on the sofa under the throw rug and manages to fall asleep by 3.

 

* * *

 

Bucky slowly blinks himself back to consciousness in a bright sunny room. It's not his bedroom- it's Steve's living room. Oh yeah, that's right.

Steve's sitting at the counter with yesterday's paper and a pot of coffee. He's frowning quite intensly but he's holding a pen so Bucky figures it's the puzzles giving him trouble, not the news.

"Mornin'" Bucky yawns, sitting up and stretching his arm out above his head.

"Heya, Buck. What are you doing here?" Steve's smiling but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Bucky only came over last night because he couldn't be alone and even just knowing Steve's in the house calms him down. Steve's always said Bucky's welcome at all hours, but if Bucky had known Steve's reaction would be this then he would have stayed at his own place. Because Steve's pretending to be comfortable, to be fine with it, but he clearly isn't.

"I- I couldn't sleep. Didn't want to be alone. I'm- I didn't mean to overstep, sorry." Bucky doesn't meet Steve's eyes, quickly standing up to leave. He should have seen this coming. He's been asking too much of Steve, of course he needs a break.

"Buck, wait." Steve stands up and reaches out as if to put a hand on his shoulder but pulls it back before he touches Bucky. "I think we should talk about a few things."

Bucky knows where this is going, he's been expecting it from day one, but that doesn't make it any easier to hear.

"It's- Look, I know it's such a cliche and all, but it's not you, it's me. I promise, I just need some time to get my head straight, okay?" Steve's not looking at Bucky either, and there's an odd sort of comfort found in the way neither of them want to have this conversation.

"You can't say that," Bucky protests. "We're not even dating."

"That's the problem. But your whole family thinks we are, they think I make you happy."

"You _do_ make me happy, Steve. And yeah I threw a fit when Ma pointed it out, but she was right. I was in a shitty place for obvious reasons but now I've got everything I want. I've got a job I actually like, a decent apartment, you." Bucky's hand's shaking the way it does when he's overly emotional. He hates it, his little tell, but he can't make it stop.

"You haven't _got_ me, Buck." Steve practically growls and Bucky's stomach clenches. His eyes are stinging and he's not 100% sure what Steve means by that but he knows he doesn't like it.

"What do you mean?" His voice shakes, like his goddamn hand, and Bucky hates it right now.

"What I mean is I'm not your boyfriend. That's just some charade to impress your parents. How long did you think you could keep this up? Honestly, Bucky. I can't do this at the moment." Steve turns around so he's not facing Bucky. _Coward_ , Bucky thinks. Steve's never given Bucky a reason to believe he's a coward, but right here, right now, Bucky can see this is the one fight he will back down from before he's really finished.

"Keep going." Bucky says, his voice surprising clear. Steve freezes for a moment, then straightens his shoulders and turns to face Bucky.

"It's not you, it's me. I said that because it's true. This is some elaborate lie to you but it's cutting way too close to my bones. Remember the second time we met? You told me you liked me." Bucky doesn't really remember but he's not going to say anything. "I thought, for one foolish moment, that you were going to ask me out. But you didn't, you asked me for my furniture. I played the part because I liked you, it was a game and I didn't want to lose."

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Bucky knows Steve, though. He knows he isn't finished so he doesn't dare move.

"I've been falling in love with you, Buck, since the day we met. And having you living in my space and introducing me to your family as the love of your life is hell if I've ever known one. I just need a fucking break." There are unshed tears in Steve's eyes and Bucky's breath is caught in his throat, a silent scream for air, for help, for anything.

This is it, though. This is what Bucky's been hiding from himself for months now. He never thought he'd get it so he never let it be an idea to ponder. He knows they fit, he knows why his relationship with Steve can't even be compared to his relationship with Nat and that's because he's never been in love with her. But then there's Steve, standing in front of Bucky, pouring his Goddamn heart out and not expecting anything back, not even hoping because he's _Steve_. And maybe Steve's been falling in love with Bucky since Day One, but Bucky's been falling in love with Steve for just as long.

His face is wet with tears now but his hand's stopped shaking and he knows what to do now, he knows what he is.

"We're fucking idiots, both of us." Bucky laughs, and he pulls Steve in and kisses him hard.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm open to prompts if there's a meet-cute you want me to write [(tumblr)](http://wonderfullywandering-alone.tumblr.com/)


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